“They all laughed at Christopher ColumbusWhen he said the world was round”

George and Ira Gershwin were responsible for some of the most memorable songs of the last century, but this particular line highlights a common misconception. In 1492, when Columbus’ small fleet sailed from Palos de la Frontera in Spain, it had been the best part of two millennia since any serious scholar had believed that the world was flat.

The ancient Greeks were not only aware that the Earth was spherical, but around 240 BC they made an estimate of the circumference and obtained a surprisingly accurate result. Eratosthenes of Cyrene (276 – 194 BC) was a Greek polymath who held the post of Chief Librarian at the Library of Alexandria. He had heard that in Syrene (now Aswan), the noontime Sun on the day of the summer solstice lit up a well, casting no shadow on the side and implying that it was directly overhead. At Alexandria, however, the Sun did not quite reach the zenith and therefore did cast a shadow. By measuring the length of the shadow cast by a vertical rod of known height, the angular distance of the Sun from the zenith in Alexandria at noon could be determined. Of course, Eratosthenes couldn’t simply look at his watch to see when it was noon, so he would have relied on the shadow being at its minimum length at noon.

Eratosthenes found that the angular distance was a fiftieth of a whole circle (i.e. 50/360 = 7.2 degrees) and that the distance from Alexandria to Syrene was therefore a fiftieth of the circumference of the Earth. He then used a value of 5,000 stadia for the distance between the two cities (clearly a rough estimate) to obtain a value of 250,000 stadia for the Earth’s circumference.

Unfortunately, we don’t know the exact value of the stadion Eratosthenes used. The stadion (from which we get the word ‘stadium’) was defined as 600 Greek feet, but different values of the foot were used in different parts of the Greek world and Eratosthenes’ stadion is thought to have been anywhere between 150 and 158 meters (492 and 519 feet), making the distance from Alexandria to Aswan 750 -790 km (466 – 490 miles). We thus obtain a value of 37,500 – 39,500 km (23,300 – 24,500 miles) for the Earth’s circumference, which is very close to the accepted value of 40,075 km (24,901 miles). The actual distance from Alexandria to Aswan is 843 km (524 miles), giving a value of 42,150 km (26,200 miles).

Eratosthenes made the following assumptions: firstly, the Sun is so distant that rays of light reaching Alexandria and Syrene are effectively parallel; secondly that Syrene is located on the Tropic of Cancer (the latitude where the Sun is directly overhead on the summer solstice); and thirdly that Alexandria lies on the same meridian as Syrene.

Eratosthenes’ first assumption was correct, but the other two were not entirely accurate. The Tropic of Cancer is currently located at latitude 23°26′12.7″ N, but in Eratosthenes’ day, it was lay at approximately latitude 23°43′ N. Syrene lies at 24°05′ N 32°54 E, 22 minutes of an arc north of the Tropic of Cancer as it then was; and three degrees further east than Alexandria, which lies at 31°12′ N 29°55′ E.

Essentially, Eratosthenes’s experiment entailed simultaneous measurements the sun’s altitude at two separate locations on the same meridian. The experiment was simplified by choosing the solstitial sun at noon, and a second location that he either believed or approximated to be due south and at the latitude of the Tropic of Cancer. Had both been the case, he would have obtained an answer of 41,600 km (25,850 miles) based on a second location 7°29′ due south of Alexandria. Today we could easily replicate the experiment with two observers equipped with clinometers at John O’ Groats and Weston Super Mare, which are very close to sharing a common meridian and are 810 km (503 miles) apart. The experiment demonstrates how fundamental data can sometimes be obtained from a subtle but easy to measure phenomenon.

Aston Villa, in common with local rivals Wolverhampton Wanderers and West Bromwich Albion, have been starved of success in recent years. Prior to 2016, however, the club could at least claim to have spent only one season out of the top flight since the mid-1970s. But a play-off defeat by Fulham means that Villa fans including HRH Prince William and Nigel Kennedy must now endure a third season of Championship football following relegation from the Premier League in 2016.

Poor though the team might currently be, the same cannot be said of Villa Park, which has throughout its existence been one of the most imposing stadia in the country. The current iteration of the stadium began in 1976-77 with the construction of the North Stand to replace the old Witton End Stand.

The stand is one of the first examples of the so-called ‘goalpost’ construction technique and is a fairly typical example of the Brutalist architectural style popular at that time.

Next to be redeveloped was the Witton Street Stand between 1993 and 1994. This time a more conventional cantilever design was chosen. The stand was later renamed for then-chairman Doug Ellis, a move that was not universally popular with supporters.

Shortly afterwards, the Holte End – originally a terrace holding 20,000 – was redeveloped as a two-tier stand. Its exterior was given a redbrick frontage based heavily on the then still existent 1920s Leitch-designed Trinity Road Stand.

The car park is entered via these fine iron gates, guarded by a pair of lions.

The final phase of the masterplan was carried out in 2000 with the rebuilding of the Trinity Road Stand, to give the ground a capacity of 42,500.

Aerial view of Villa Park.

(Photo credit: Peter Schaad)

Sports historian and Villa fan Simon Inglis once noted that a building is never finished, only started. This may well be true of Villa Park with plans to rebuild the North Stand and eventually to increase the capacity to 60,000.

West Bromwich Albion, like their Black Country rivals Wolverhampton Wanderers, have in recent years struggled to maintain a presence in the top flight. An eight year stint in the Premier League ended in May this year with relegation to the Championship. To make matters worse for Baggies fans, Wolves were promoted back to the Premier League.

The Hawthorns, West Brom’s home since the end of the nineteenth century, is 168 m (551 ft) above sea level, making it the highest ground among all 92 Premier League and Football League clubs. It can easily be seen from the Rotunda in the centre of Birmingham 9 km (5.6 miles) away.

The ground has been entirely reconstructed since the 1970s, but beyond the refurbishment of the 1980s-built West Stand in 2008, there has been no major work since the East Stand was constructed in 2001. There were plans to replace the West Stand, but to date these have not materialised. The ground capacity is a fairly modest 26,500.

The Jeff Astle Gates commemorate striker Jeff Astle, who scored 174 goals in 361 appearances for West Brom between 1964 and 1974. Sadly, he died in 2002 aged 59 from degenerative brain disease brought on by repeatedly heading old-fashioned leather footballs, which were far heavier than the plastic balls now used, especially when wet.

This statue commemorates another West Brom legend, Tony ‘Bomber’ Brown, who scored 218 goals in 574 appearances between 1963 and 1980.

Finally, this blue plaque commemorates West Brom’s founder membership of the Football League.

Anybody old enough to have attended matches at Wolverhampton Wanderers’ Molineux Stadium in or before the 1970s, or at least have seen Wolves on Match of the Day then, will be familiar with what was one of the most eccentric-looking stadia in the top flight.

(photo credits: unknown)

Molineux Stadium is named for the former Molineux Grounds pleasure park, on which it was built. The park in turn was named for the 18th century businessman Benjamin Molineux, who built a mansion there. The mansion was later converted to a hotel and is now a Grade II* listed building.

The gabled Molineux Street stand owes its trapezoidal shape to the constraints of the site. Designed by Archibald Leitch, the stand was opened in 1932 and closely resembled Leitch’s East Stand at Highbury built almost two decades earlier. Proceeding clockwise, the other stands are: South Bank, Waterloo Road stand, and North Bank.

The present-day counterparts of these stands are, respectively, the Steve Bull Stand (formerly the John Ireland Stand), the Sir Jack Hayward Stand (formerly the Jack Harris Stand), the Billy Wright Stand, and the Stan Cullis Stand.

The ground might have looked very different if Wolves had been able to proceed with an ambitious masterplan unveiled in 1958, when they were one of the country’s leading sides under the management of former player Stan Cullis.

(photo credit: unknown)

But the plans were rejected by the local authorities and the football club went into a decline, culminating in Cullis’ dismissal and relegation just six years later. Wolves underwent a renaissance in the 1970s, and a second masterplan was commenced in 1979 beginning with the replacement of the Molineux Road stand. Unfortunately, it all but bankrupted the club. In four disastrous years between 1982 and 1986, Wolves plummeted from the First Division to the Fourth (equivalent to falling from the Premier League to League Two in successive seasons).

Wolves were eventually rescued by the late Sir Jack Hayward, who took over in 1990 and oversaw the completion of the 1979 master plan. By 1993, the stadium had been completely revamped, but a return to the top flight eluded the club until 2003. Since then, Wolves have been something of a yo-yo side, and they even dropped into the third tier for a season in 2013-14. However, ambitious new owners took over in 2016 and Wolves returned to the Premier League for the 2018-19 season.

The attention to detail is obvious, and Molineux is very different to the characterless ‘Legoland’ design of so many modern football stadia.

The development of Molineux looks set to continue. The Hayward masterplan left the stadium with a capacity of 28,000, which was adequate at the start of the all-seater era when few stadia exceeded 35,000. But even the present capacity of 32,000 is small by today’s standards for a Premier League club, and there are plans to increase the capacity to 50,000.

In 1987, Lancastrian businessmen Sagar Mitchell and and James Kenyon founded one of the world’s first film production companies in Blackburn, Lancs. Mitchell and his father had been in the photographic business for a decade; Kenyon ran a furniture and cabinet making business. They traded under the name Norden, and their advertising slogans were “Local Films For Local People” and “We take them and make them”. These documentary films were either produced for local businesses or on Mitchell and Kenyon’s own initiative. In both cases, the films would be viewed locally. The first reported showing of a Mitchell & Kenyon production was a film of Blackburn Market, which was shown at 40 Northgate, Blackburn, on 27 November 1897.

More than sixty years before Match of the Day first aired, Mitchell and Kenyon began taking their cameras to football matches.

Newcastle United 1 Liverpool 0, 23 November 1901, at St James’ Park.

18,000 fans were at St James’ Park to see the Magpies defeat reigning League Champions Liverpool with a 65th minute goal from Scottish international Bob McCobb. The film features the only known pictures of the ground’s original West Stand, which was demolished in 1905 to make way for a far more modern structure.

Sheffield United 1 Bury 0, 6 September 1902 at Bramall Lane.

This was a high-profile match between what were at the time two of the country’s leading sides. The Blades won one League Championship and four FA Cups between 1897 and 1925, and the Shakers won the FA Cup in 1900 and 1903. But the glory days didn’t last and neither side has won a trophy since this halcyon period.

The quality of the picture is astonishingly good. We get a brief view of the home side’s impressive, newly-opened John Street Stand, the first in England to be designed by the renowned football stadium architect Archibald Leitch. The movie also features Sheffield United’s legendary goalkeeper William Foulke, who also played cricket for Derbyshire County Cricket Club. Foulke was a large man, unkindly known as Fatty Foulke. He measured 6 ft 4 in (1.93 m) and his weight is said to have reached 152 kg (336 lb) at the end of his career. Also featuring for the Blades that day was Herbert Chapman, the future Huddersfield Town and Arsenal manager.

Everton 3 Liverpool 1, 27 September 1902 at Goodison Park.

This is the earliest moving footage of a Merseyside derby, which then as now was a major event. Forty thousand fans packed into Goodison Park to see the Toffees record a 3-1 win over their great rivals. Unfortunately, the picture quality is poor, but details of what was one of the world’s first super-stadia can just about be made out.

Burnley 0 Manchester United 2, 6 December 1902 at Turf Moor.

This match was due to shown that evening at the Burnley Mechanics’ Institute, but the showing was cancelled after the home side’s defeat. Manchester United had just adopted the name by which they would go on to become world famous, having previously been known as Newton Heath. But this match – the first moving picture to feature Man. Utd – was far from a high-profile affair. Both sides were playing in the Second Division (now the Championship), and Man. Utd not only failed to finish higher than fifth; they also had to endure Man. City topping the division and gaining promotion. They nevertheless did considerably better than Burnley, who finished rock bottom.

The quality of the pictures from the Sheffield United vs Bury match compare very favourably with those appearing on TV screens almost seven decades later.

Swindon Town 3 Arsenal 1, Football League Cup Final, 15 March 1969, at Wembley.

Arsenal’s predilection for losing to unfancied opposition was nothing new even in the 1960s. Trailing 1-nil to Third Division Swindon Town, Arsenal were seemingly rescued by a goal from striker Bobby Gould which took the match to extra time. Gould bizarrely marked the goal by bursting into tears. He should perhaps have waited until after the match as the Gunners were undone in extra time by two goals from Swindon winger Don Rogers.

The quality of the picture is almost as poor as that of the pitch, which had been badly cut up by staging the Horse of the Year show at Wembley a week before the match. Videotape technology had apparently yet to catch up with the cine film technology from the turn of the century.

Arsenal 2 Liverpool 1, FA Cup Final, 8 May 1971, at Wembley.

Arsenal, videotape technology, and the Wembley pitch had all markedly improved just two years later, as the Gunners came from behind to beat Liverpool in extra time and complete the League and FA Cup Double. Matches were now being shown in colour, although regular live football on TV was still some years off.

Mitchell and Kenyon continued to make documentary films, but by 1907 public interest was beginning to wane as movie companies shifted their emphasis to fictional productions. The last-known Mitchell and Kenyon production dates to 1913. After Kenyon’s death in 1925, Mitchell stored the films in the basement of his photographic shop, which he now ran with his son John. Mitchell died in 1952, and John continued to run the business until his retirement in 1960

The films were forgotten until 1994, when they were found during renovation work at what was by now a toy shop. They are now preserved at the British Film Institute’s National Film and Television Archive at Berkhamsted, Herts, and in 2005 they were the subject of a three-part BBC series The Lost World of Mitchell & Kenyon presented by historian Dan Cruickshank.

It seems like a long time ago, but until the 1990s if you wanted to see a top football match you could simply turn up a few minutes before kickoff and pay at the turnstiles. This was the case even for top games such as Arsenal vs Liverpool. The game would kick off at three o’clock on Saturday afternoon, not at some far less convenient time chosen by the TV companies. If the game wasn’t featured on Match of the Day or ITV’s Big Match, the only way to see it was to be there in person. Furthermore, it was no more expensive than going to see a movie.

But those days aren’t entirely gone. On 8 September, more than 1,100 fans saw Dulwich Hamlet play out an entertaining 1-all draw against high-flying Wealdstone at Dulwich’s home from home, Tooting & Mitcham United’s Imperial Fields stadium.

Newly-promoted to the National League South, Dulwich had been finding life tough at the higher level, and had lost their last three home games. The most recent defeat, a poor performance against Hampton & Richmond Borough, had prompted manager Gavin Rose to make wholesale changes to the team.

The most vociferous Dulwich fans, known as the Rabble, take up position behind the goal the home side will be attacking in the first half.

At this point, the Wealdstone end is only modestly populated, but with a only a few minutes before kickoff many ‘Stones fans are still queuing outside the ground.

The teams shake hands before kickoff.

The visitors have the best of the first half, and lead by a penalty. Half time sees not only the teams but also the fans change ends. Wealdstone have brought around 200 fans, and they are in good voice.

But the Rabble are also in good voice, urging the Hamlet to stage a second half comeback.

The second half gets underway.

A much better second half performance ensues from Dulwich, but Wealdstone hold on as the clock runs down. It is beginning to look like another afternoon of frustration at Imperial Fields.

Then, on 80 minutes, Anthony Cook levels for the home side with this superb strike – his first goal for the club.

Anybody who was a child in the 1960s will remember the classic mini-hardback Ladybird books, which throughout that decade were priced at half a crown (two shillings and six pence or 12 ½ pence). The “Adventure from History” series (Ladybird 561) ran to fifty books and told the stories of such notables as William the Conqueror, Queen Elizabeth I, Christopher Columbus, Captain Cook, and Florence Nightingale. The first book, “King Alfred the Great“, was published in 1956; the last, featuring William Shakespeare, appeared in 1981. The series continues to attract great interest to this day, often bought second hand by parents for their children to provide an easy introduction to different periods of history.

“Stone Age Man in Britain” was one of many titles I remember from my childhood, and when I saw this copy on a market stall I couldn’t resist paying a tenner for it. “Stone Age Man in Britain” was first published in 1961, though this copy appears to date to around 1970. My original copy featured the cover artwork on a dustjacket; this reprint has it printed directly onto the hard cover. The price is quoted in decimal as well as the old pounds, shillings, and pence – but the long-standing 2/6 | 12 ½ p has been overprinted with a ‘revised price’ of 15 p as the first effects of the inflation that became so rampant in the 1970s began to make themselves felt.

I was interested to see how the book held up against what we know now. The answer, sadly, is not well at all. Indeed, it is not even a fair reflection of what was known in 1961. “Stone Age Man in Britain” would make a very poor introduction to any present-day child interested in the prehistory of Britain.

The book deals with the Mesolithic and Neolithic periods in Britain, although it does not name the former. Its description of the Mesolithic people, who arrived when Britain was still joined to mainland Europe, does not make comfortable reading. They were “covered in hair and had fierce animal-life faces”. They were “able to talk and think, though only in a very simple way”. They could make “some sort of clothes” but “had not yet learned how to build even the simplest houses”. On the other hand, it concedes that the cave paintings of their Upper Palaeolithic forbears in France were “amazingly well done”.

Until around thirty years ago, it was widely believed that archaic humans such as Homo erectus and Neanderthals were early forms of Homo sapiens and that the species was perhaps two million years old. But behaviourally modern Homo sapiens was a much later development that arrived in a ‘human revolution’ 50,000 – 30,000 years ago. This was announced by the spectacular cave paintings and other artwork of Upper Palaeolithic Europe. We now know that both viewpoints are wrong: firstly, modern humans are a separate and comparatively recent species, albeit they could and did interbreed with archaic people. Secondly, modern humans were behaviourally modern at least 100,000 years ago, and probably much earlier. Upper Palaeolithic (and later Mesolithic) people had the needle and thread; and often invested considerable effort in building sophisticated dwellings. Admittedly not all of this was known in 1961, but the cave paintings have been known since the nineteenth century, and it is patently obvious that they were not the work of dimwits.

Yet this nonsense continues with a description of the arrival of Neolithic people in Britain. The Neolithic people “were much more intelligent than the [Mesolithic] people who lived in caves… the cave man’s brain was underdeveloped, and he didn’t think very much. The Neolithic men had better brains…”.

The date given, 7,000 – 6,000 years ago, is reasonably accurate, albeit the book incorrectly states that Britain was still connected to mainland Europe at this stage; in fact, Britain separated from Europe – the original Brexit – more than 8,000 years ago.

We are then led to believe that a British Neolithic genius called Quick Foot decided he was fed up with living in caves and came up with the idea of building a hut. He then went on to single-handedly invent the Mode V microlithic tool tradition. Other early Brits invented the needle and thread, tailored clothing, line fishing, pottery, the use of flints to start fires, and (having originally walked to Britain) boats. To be fair, the author of the book, Lawrence du Garde Peach, was likely attempting to convey the importance of these things to children rather than start a myth that they were invented by Ancient Britons.

The British Neolithic people are incorrectly described as having the ‘big four’ farm animals (cattle, pigs, sheep, and goats), but no crops. In fact, the first agriculturalists to reach Britain possessed a full mixed-farming economy of crops and animals.

The book is to be credited for what must surely be the most simplistic (and entirely inaccurate) speculation ever to appear in print concerning the origins of cereal domestication. “Perhaps Quick Foot’s wife, or some other woman threw away some grass seeds beside the hut and noticed that they grew”. She then hit on the idea of growing some more seeds, cooking them with milk to make porridge, and then grinding them and cooking the resulting flour to make (unleavened) bread. “Everybody liked the new sort of food”.

We then learn how villages and exchange networks grew up, and how cattle rustling became a problem, leading to the construction of fortified hilltop settlements, many of which can still be seen to this day. They do indeed, but they mainly date to the Iron Age, and none predate the Bronze Age. However, we do know that there was intercommunal violence in Neolithic Europe, with grim evidence of massacres, though the motives are unknown. Theft of livestock is certainly a possibility.

In the remainder of the book, we learn about Neolithic monuments including Stonehenge, the construction of which is described in some detail, and is attributed to a “wise and powerful” paramount chief who intended it as a temple for sun-worship.

The final page of the book explains how our knowledge of these preliterate times is due to the patient work of archaeologists. It concludes that “To-day we should call these early inhabitants of Britain savages. But although the Stone Age men were a very primitive race, every now and then there would be among them some man like Quick Foot who could think better than the others. Then some small advance would be made…. They were not savages. They were the dim beginnings of modern civilisation in which you and all of us now live.”

The words “very primitive race” certainly jar, as does the implication that with a few exceptions, such as Quick Foot, Stone Age Britons weren’t very bright.

“Stone Age Man in Britain” teaches us rather more about attitudes to gender and race in 1961 than it does about the prehistory of Britain. The gender stereotyping is blatant, with women relegated to sewing, making pots, and food preparation. Important discoveries would be made by ‘some man like Quickfoot’. Throughout the book, the term ‘man/men’ is used as a synonym for ‘people’ or ‘humans’.

It was known that the Mesolithic and Neolithic people were modern rather than archaic humans. But the view was then widespread that some ‘races’ were simply smarter than others, and that people who live in traditional societies as hunter-gatherers or subsistence farmers must by their very nature be a bit dim. It was an era of casual racism: for example, children were taught a version of Eeny, meeny, miny, moe that featured the N-word; and blacks and Irish were openly discriminated against. We should therefore not be too harsh in judging a children’s book that was a product of its times.